Gladstone
by Selene69
Summary: Master found him and took him home. He decided to do all he could to make Master happy. (Side Johnlock)


A/n: It has been a very long time since I have posted a story, but I am getting ready to make a small comeback. This is something that came to me recently as we are getting ready to lay a dear friend to rest. Please enjoy. *bow*

*2*2*1*B*

He was cold and it was raining.

He was small, smaller than his brothers and sisters. Master had thrown him out because he was small. Can't fight bears or other dogs if your small. He could already feel himself getting weaker and feeling sick. He wouldn't survive more than a night. He knew that.

He heard a scuffle and someone crouched down near him. The man smelled like blood and fear. He began to growl and bark.

Strong hands grabbed him and one began to crush his throat.

There was a click and a deep voice, "Drop the dog."

*2*2*1*B*

He was told to be very quiet as the new man slid him into a pocket that was inside the man's coat and against his side. The man glanced around for a moment before voices began to call for someone, "Sherlock!"

"Holmes!"

Two men and a few other people rounded the corner just as the new man, Sherlock, folded his jacket closed. He could still peak out of the coat, but just barely. A man who smelled of tea and ink came close and began to look over Sherlock, "Are you alright?" the other man, who smelt of coffee and smoke, grabbed the man who had tried to kill him.

"This him, Sherlock?"

"Yes." Sherlock's voice became soft, "I'm fine, John. He was looking for someone to come the way he had, I went around through a different alley." a soft squeeze made him a little warmer, "Lestrade, that man has a concussion. Try to be gentle with his head." he wanted to yip or bark in excitement, to tell the story of how they had caught the evil man, but he was slowly falling asleep thanks to the warmth and comfort of this new man, this Sherlock.

*2*2*1*B*

When he woke up he was in a large, soft bed with blankets and pillows all over the place. Sherlock, Master, was pouring over many papers and books. He whined and wiggled a bit and Master looked at him with a smile. He caught a whiff of something warm and sweet and crawled his way to Master. Master was holding a strange object that had a tit on it. With little more manners, he latched and began to suckle.

Master spoke softly, "I took you to a vet. She said you're not yet old enough to be weaned off milk, but that solids can be introduced. This is a 5 percent solution of formula and kibble. Hopefully I'll have you eating from a bowl soon." He waved his hand a bit, "There's a pad on the floor by the dog bed. It is for you to urinate and defecate on. I want no accidents in the flat. Understand?"

He didn't understand completely, but he would try his hardest. His belly filled up fast and soon he was sleeping again. Master's fingers rubbing his scruff and back. He gave a soft burp and a happy yawn before settling in against Master.

*2*2*1*B*

He doesn't like the man with the umbrella that kidnaps him and Master from an alley one night. He's been with Master only a few days and Master still carried him in his pocket. He is learning to 'go outside' and only outside and he is now on a 20 percent solution of milk and kibble. The man with the umbrella, Mycroft, stares at him from his seat in the car. Master is rubbing his scruff as he eats happily.

"Canis lupus familiaris, breed: English Bulldog." he squeaks happily at Master's voice.

"A dog, Sherlock." Master glares at the umbrella man, "A mutt with poor breeding and God knows what for diseases. If you wanted a dog, I could have gotten you another Irish Setter, or maybe a Spaniel. Something with dignity, not a fighting dog."

Master growled, "Gladstone is not a mutt nor a fighting dog! He is a pure bred, I had his blood checked! Besides, Red Beard was an Irish Setter and I don't want another one. Spaniel's are worse than cats and can get so delicate! English Bulldogs are sturdy and make excellent companions." Master rubbed his back when he finished eating and he burped again, "Gladstone will be perfect for John. I just need to get him to start really growing."

The umbrella man stared for a moment before saying lightly, "Yes, John will find him agreeable." he decided that the umbrella man wasn't to terrible.

*2*2*1*B*

Master was now feeding him only kibble and water. He liked it much better than milk and he loved the ball and rope Master had gotten him. He also got a bone once a week to cut his puppy teeth on. He was very pleased with the bone and with his other Master, John. John had been thrilled when Master showed him Gladstone. Master had been pleased by John's reaction to him so he had set about making sure John loved him.

John took him for walks, brushed him and gave him a proper bath; John fed him table scraps too, but Master didn't need to know about that. When people came to the flat for Master's help, they cooed over him and stroked him, praising him for being handsome and well trained. Master seemed to primp at these compliments.

There were people he didn't like and people he did like. Inspector was one of his favorites, Inspector brought him liver treats and would get down to scratch his belly before conducting business. Master seemed pleased with him liking Inspector, so he always greeted the man with a thumping tail and a wiggle. It took him a while to realize this was the man who had arrested his would-be killer.

Then there was Sally and Idiot. He hated Sally and Idiot. Whenever they came over he sat at Master's feet and stared them down. He didn't like them in his territory, but it was necessary and John had told him to be nice. Sally glared at him the whole time and muttered about 'stupid dogs' but he knew he wasn't. Master called him 'brilliant boy' all the time because Gladstone helped on cases when he could. Idiot had tried to win him over with liver treats and belly rubs, but he'd braked at the man and scared him off for good. They didn't come anywhere near Master when he sat between the humans.

Mycroft came by on occasion and always had a small something for him. A bone that was seasoned, a new ball or rope, a steak that was meant just for him or maybe some chicken. He would let Mycroft rub his neck and scratch behind his ear, but Master didn't completely approve of him liking Mycroft, so he always went back to Master to show off the present he'd received. Master would smiled and say, "You have quiet the admirer, Gladstone, don't let him tell you otherwise." he would then take his treat and wait for Mycroft to leave.

Then came a man that he didn't like at all. He only came once and that was the last time. He looked like Master, but wasn't. He tried to feed Gladstone a poisoned piece of meat, but Gladstone and been trained to smell if something was poisoned and to not eat it. He taken it, dropped it at the man's feet and pissed on it. The man had been livid about his ruined shoes and pants, but Master had simply said, "You think everything is below you, but just like my John, Gladstone is not so easily fooled. A dog caught on to you, Jim, maybe it's time to admit defeat." Master was dead a week later.

*2*2*1*B*

Gladstone was four when Mary started to come around to their new home. He didn't really like Mary. She was kind to him, but something wasn't right. She smelt of gun oil and blood, but she also smelt of tea and pipe smoke. He didn't cuddle with Mary when she wanted to, he only came to her when called because he was supposed to. He didn't want her to be near John, but John needed a companion with Master being gone.

"Maybe a girl for him, John?"

John looked up from his paper, "Girl for who?"

Mary patted his head and gave him a bit of ham, "For Gladstone. He's not fixed and he seemed sad. Maybe a girl would cheer him up?"

John hummed softly and looked at him, "I don 'no. He's been bred before, didn't seem that crazy about it. Liked the pups, but seemed more interested in humans, really." John patted his leg and he ran to get his neck scratched, "But a friend couldn't hurt I guess."

Mary came home with a cat. She was big, white and fluffy with a pedigree and an attitude. Gladstone hated her. Cher, as they had named her, would cuddle John when it was time for Gladstone's park walk and keep him distracted until John forgot about park time. She would lay on his bowl during dinner so he couldn't eat until she was done. Cher had even taken his bed, hissing and clawing at him if he tried to ask her to move.

She was horrible and Gladstone began to get depressed.

John and Mary fought about it. Mary refusing to get rid of her cat and John refusing to get rid of Gladstone. John took Gladstone back to 221B Baker Street and they lived there again. John slept in Master's room and Mary came by once to try and make John come 'home', "I know you love that dog because Sherlock gave him to you, but maybe it's time to let this part of Sherlock die too." the door had been slammed in her face.

*2*2*1*B*

Master came back!

Master came back and John began to smile and laugh again!

They did lock Gladstone out of their bedroom though, but they walked him together and would cuddle him when they cuddled. They didn't get a cat, but they did get a rat. Basil and Gladstone were good friends who slept together in his bed and shared food. Basil was safe from cats with Gladstone around and Gladstone didn't get lonely when Master and John had to leave for a few days. Basil could open doors and let Gladstone out. Gladstone learned to close doors so that no one knew what they were doing.

Basil and Gladstone began to get old and one day Basil didn't wake up. Gladstone lifted him up gently and took him to John. Placing his friend in the doctor's lap. John had cooed softly and stroked Gladstone's ear, "I'm sorry, boy. Even I can't bring someone back from the dead." Master was horrified that Basil was dead and refused to get another rat.

They were on a case months later and Gladstone heard puppies. He ran to save them from the man who was going to drown them in the river. Before Master or John could stop him, the man shot Gladstone, but the puppies were safe. Gladstone gave Master a gentle lick, trying to stop the man's tears and whined when John stopped stroking his fur.

He woke up in a warm bed, by a warm fire and found himself face to face with Basil and another dog. This dog was named Red Beard, Red Beard told him that this is where you wait for Master and that they would be fine until Master and John came home.

They come home together years later. Smiling and happy to see Gladstone, Basil and Red Beard waiting by the fire, curled together in the dog bed.

*2*2*1*B*

A/n: Thank you for reading my little story about Gladstone and his family.


End file.
